


Castaway Gold

by Eliza



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean, seaQuest
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-22
Updated: 2006-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza/pseuds/Eliza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all treasure is gold, and not all gold is coin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castaway Gold

**Author's Note:**

> For the Love Lucas Challenge in the LJ community [seadeck](http://community.livejournal.com/seadeck).

They said they'd left enough rum to last six months. He was guilty of...a fair number of the things he'd been accused of, but none of them were worth stranding him here on this passably pleasant island with plenty of fresh water, food, shelter, and a laughably small supply of rum. Six months, his arse! The Pearl's sails had best break the horizon before the next full moon or Anamaria wouldn't be the only one in a mood.

But in the meantime, he'd better check on the interesting piece of flotsam that washed ashore last night.

Jack Sparrow, Captain Emeritus of the Black Pearl until his First Mate calmed down a little, picked up the nearest bottle from his cache, speared a pineapple with his knife and wandered toward his private beach. It was the only beach, but it didn't make it any less his. On said beach lay treasure–gold, of a fashion. Jack had rescued it from the tide at sunrise and dragged it up into a bit of shade. The boy was breathing well and didn't show any outward signs of injury, so exhaustion seemed the most likely cause of his unconscious state. The only thing to do was to wait for him to wake up.

The beach was losing its shade as the sun climbed in the sky, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger to the fair skin. The boy had even turned over in the short time Jack had been gone, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in his arms. Hiding from the light most likely, but it also hid a most delightful view. Although, Jack noticed as he settled into his favorite spot for lunch against a coconut palm, it introduced another one. He'd long accepted the fact that he was an incorrigible lech. Pirate, after all. The boy couldn't be half his age, a full score years at the most. He was also fairer than Jack first thought, as evidenced by the strip of skin exposed by the loose trousers which had slipped down his hips. The sun-kissed flesh was golden in comparison, almost matching the golden head that Jack first spied in the pale dawn.

The blue eyes were a surprise though. Surprised as well. They stared at each other for a long moment until the boy's eyes narrowed and Jack could see the tension coiling in his shoulders. The boy pushed himself to his feet slowly, assessing his own strength while keeping his eyes on Jack. Jack did his best not to return the stare with the same intensity, but it was hard. He had a weakness for things that sparkled in the light.

And the boy sparkled--sparked--as he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"Pirate," Jack said, saluting him with the bottle. "Jack Sparrow. Usually Captain, but I'm taking a sabbatical."

"A sabbatical?"

His answer obviously surprised the boy and, to Jack's delight, seemed to intrigue him as well. Curiosity may eventually kill this kitten, but Jack would enjoy using it to play with him. Jack beckoned the boy over between taking strips off the outside of the pineapple. The boy refused to come within arm's reach and so Jack leaned forward and whispered loudly, "Women trouble." He focused on carefully removing the prickly rind as he let the boy think on that.

"Really?"

"You sink one.... Well, two.... Fine, three little boats and they tend to become hysterical. And homicidal."

"Homicidal?"

"The ones I know."

"Right. Pirate."

"That's me." Jack grinned. The boy grinned back, a fast one but it was there. Jack hacked off a chunk of the fruit and offered it on the tip of his knife. The boy's hesitation was briefer than his grin, showing the lad had a good amount of sense to counter the curiosity.

"Thanks," he said and took a bite. And sank to his knees.

Jack had spent enough time soaking in the salty sea to know what this boy was tasting. Water would be delicious, but this mix of sweet and tang was ambrosia. It quenched the thirst and cut through the sticky crust that would be lining his mouth. Think about that, Jack, don't think about the drop of juice running down the boy's chin. Or how beautiful he is with his eyes closed and his head tilted back and the look of pure pleasure on his face. Do not be jealous of a blasted piece of fruit! There are other ways of making him look like that.

"That was amazing! The best pineapple I've ever had."

"A little salt makes everything taste better." A wrinkle appeared between the boy's eyes but smoothed quickly as he realized where the salt had come from. He smiled and nodded and reached for the next piece being offered on the knife. Jack pulled it away before the boy could touch it. And before the fury making him glow could set him ablaze, Jack explained, "If it's that good, I shouldn't be giving it away for free now, should I?"

The anger settled to a vigorous simmer. "Bloody pirate," the boy snarled. Then he became wary. "What do you want?"

That was too easy, and Jack was always willing to take advantage. He let his gaze wander slowly down the smooth chest and cursed the fact that the boy had sat back on his heels, bunching up the trousers and hiding the long line of his legs. But that meant he could return to the pretty face all the faster. The blush that pinked the boy's cheeks only accented the blue eyes as they aimed furious fire at him. Jack couldn't help but smile as he said, very reasonably, "Your name, lad."

"My name?" the boy spat out in disbelief.

"Your name. I can't keep calling you 'boy'."

"Wouldn't be my first choice," the boy muttered. He reached for the pineapple and Jack moved it just out of range again. "My name is Lucas." Jack let him take it and Lucas rose to his feet, chewing on a mouthful. "And I'm not a dog either, Mr. Sparrow. I won't beg for treats."

"Never said you were– Bloody hell." Jack scrambled to his feet to follow Lucas as he stalked into the jungle, but the boy had long legs and was running on anger, and Jack wasn't in the mood to hack his way through the undergrowth. He aimed for the path he'd cut, hoping that Lucas would head toward the sound of running water. Once away from the surf, the roar of the waterfall was difficult to miss.

He walked quickly down the path, listening for the sounds that would mark Lucas' progress. It became harder and harder the closer he came to the waterfall, so he had little warning before the lad stumbled onto the path and into him. All the fight had drained out of the boy along with the colour in his face. Jack would have thought he held a ghost if Lucas wasn't so very heavy. He was also so still that for a few moments Jack wondered if he had passed out until he pushed himself away, shaky but still gloriously annoyed.

"Get away from me."

"You're the one who fell into a swoon in my arms, boy."

"I... I don't swoon!" But there wasn't enough power behind the exclamation to make Jack want to continue this round. Instead, he took hold of the boy's arm.

"Don't be an idiot. It won't do you any good to be falling on your face and I know the shortcuts."

"You have no idea where I'm going," Lucas snarled, but he didn't shake off Jack's hand and seemed to relax as they headed in the direction of the roaring water. His steps quickly became steadier and the path was narrow, so Jack let go and took the lead. He kept an eye on the boy though and was pleased to see the grey tinge leaving his skin and the curiosity appearing again as he began to look around, noticing more than his feet. When they reached a small stream, Lucas' eyes lit up but Jack stopped him from dipping his hand into the water.

"I wouldn't do that, Lucas. You don't know what it's been oozing through. There's a much better place to drink." Jack jumped across the water and held out his hand. Lucas glared at it with narrowed eyes which made Jack smile. To his delighted surprise, Lucas smiled back; small and sort of lopsided, but it was a smile. He slapped his hand into Jack's, allowing himself to be pulled across the little brook and didn't push away from Jack's touch this time either. In fact, he stood looking into Jack's eyes, his smile growing wider.

"What?" Lucas asked, almost laughing.

Jack blinked, and realized he'd been grinning like a loon. He dropped Lucas' hand and shrugged, only reining in his smile a little, then turned to continue down the path. He heard a breath of laughter behind him, hesitant and wary, and his grin widened again. Keeping Lucas a bit off-balance seemed a good way to keep things interesting.

He had to give his crew credit, if you had to be imprisoned on a small dot in the middle of the ocean, this was the one to be stuck on. The waterfall not only provided an abundant supply of fresh water but it was damn pretty. Lucas stopped short as they broke through the trees.

"Wow."

"Welcome to my parlor," said Jack with a flourish. He'd have taken off his hat, but he'd not put it on this morning.

"Said the spider to the fly," Lucas replied half under his breath as he walked past.

"Clever, but cutting, Lucas, my boy. There is nothing sticky about me."

"Think again, Jack. You spent the morning cutting up a pineapple."

A quick run of fingers down his arm and Jack found a distinctly sticky spot at his wrist. Sweet, yes, that was pineapple. He lifted his eyes to confirm Lucas' assessment when he caught Lucas watching. Closely. He made sure to lick the spot clean. Lucas smirked, that was the only word for it, and Jack knew he'd pushed too far. Again.

"There is a word for–"

"Incorrigible," Jack interrupted, and Lucas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I have caused considerable vexation to a significant number of well-read individuals."

The smirk brightened and stayed that way as Lucas turned back again to the pool. He seemed hypnotized by it, walking without hesitation into the shallows. Jack knew the bottom disappeared quickly and he prepared himself to be entertained when the boy took the inevitable step into the deep. As the water reached Lucas' thighs, Jack held his breath in anticipation and sympathy, but instead of sinking like a stone, the lad dove like a dolphin, cutting a graceful arc in the air before disappearing beneath the surface.

"Wow," Jack whispered to himself.

Lucas let out a whoop as he broke the surface, a wide grin evident as he shook the water out of his eyes. "Beautiful!," he shouted over the roar of the falls, then swam easily toward the wall of water. The boy must be a sailor, for it was rare for a man to be that comfortable in the water.

A toast to this fortuitous day seemed appropriate, so Jack settled on a sun-warmed rock before fishing the rum out of his pocket. He raised the bottle as Lucas pulled himself up onto the rock shelf at the base of the cliff and the boy waved back. Oh yes, this day deserved a long toast, and Jack was happy to oblige.

It almost killed him.

The sight that greeted him as he lowered the bottle introduced a portion of the rum to his lungs, which not only was a waste of good liquor but very painful. He cursed the cough-induced tears that clouded his eyes and prevented him from seeing Lucas finish removing his trousers. Now, the boy was partially hidden by the water as he rinsed them, the curtain parting occasionally to show an arm, a shoulder, a hip. "Just a little more," Jack whispered.

The blond head appeared next, Lucas scrubbing at his hair to remove as much of the salt as possible. Jack knew that difficulty, which was why he'd given up altogether. He smiled and raised the bottle to his lips again, then lowered it without drinking. He'd learned his lesson; the lad looked like he was coming back to the pool.

The pale figure behind the veil of water bent to pick up the trousers. Jack's imagination filled in the missing details. Jack's body filled in other things. Jack took a long drink of rum, which often did the trick to settle an unruly crew. He kept his eyes on the boy, not wanting to be unnecessarily startled again, and so he saw the curtain part and Lucas finally step out further along the shelf.

Jack knew treasure when he saw it. This was a piece that should be locked away from prying eyes. And pirates. A youth, yes, but with such promise. Everything in elegant proportion, strength and grace in balance. All covered with a dusting of gold that made Jack want to run his hands over Lucas' skin to see if some would rub off. "Liar," Jack said to himself and smirked round the mouth of the bottle. Gold had nothing to do with it.

By the time Lucas slapped the soaking pants onto Jack's settee, the golden sheen had faded. But he seemed in good spirits despite his ashen face, so Jack only said, "Think you overdid it, lad."

"Just a little." Lucas pulled himself up far enough to rest his crossed arms on the rock and his chin on his arms. "Sorry, if I made you worry that you might have to get your feet wet."

"I am more than capable in any and all surroundings." Damn he missed his hat. Saying that while raising his head just enough to make eye contact from under the brim would have made the statement provocative instead of almost petulant. A leer should compensate nicely. "Although I prefer to admire the view. The wonders of nature never fail to move one's soul."

"One's...soul?"

"What are you implying there, lad? Better spell it out for this humble pirate."

"With the well-read enemies."

"I didn't say they were enemies...exactly. Some may actually look on me fondly, on a fair day."

Lucas looked up at the cloudless sky and smiled his crooked half-smile. He didn't say anymore, but pulled himself out of the water and onto the rock beside Jack's, one that was just low enough that Jack cursed his pride for not allowing him to lean over to take a good look. Lucas was still watching him with that damn smile. Cheeky bastard thought he'd outmanoeuvred Jack Sparrow.

He didn't know that pride could be beautifully flexible when the situation warranted it.

Jack smiled back, just a little one; the only gold glinting in the sunlight was Lucas' rapidly drying hair. Eye contact was the key to keeping this treasure within his grasp so he noted the widening of both eyelids and pupils as he rolled first onto his hip and then pivoted to a position on his belly at right angles from his previous one. A position with a fine view of Lucas' chosen perch.

"A bit of rum to warm you up?"

This time Jack's smile glinted, too, as he held out one of his precious bottles. Like pride, it was a reasonable sacrifice in the name of a very ignoble cause. Now that all the salt was off it, Lucas' skin was as fine and fair as a woman's; the boy hadn't been at sea for very long. His limbs showed it as well, only starting to gain the bulges and arcs that months in the rigging would put on them. Other bits didn't seem to need to gain much of anything-- Blast! Eyes. Look him in the eyes! Damnation, that smirk was back despite the blush accompanying it.

"No, thank you. I don't like it much."

It had to be the night in the salt that made Lucas' voice sound like that; Jack tried not to lick his lips. "But you've never tried the likes of this, lad. Pilfered from the finest distillery in the Barbados, it was."

"The finest? Really?" The boy shifted onto his knees and leaned closer, putting his shoulders higher than the edge of Jack's rock and their eyes on an even plane.

"The very best there is." Lucas' hand came to rest on Jack's wrist as he leaned forward, but didn't make a move toward taking the bottle.

"A small taste then."

Jack saw the flash of a wide smile and then Lucas was too close for him to see anything. His eyes being closed may have had something to do with that, for it seemed to be his instinctive reaction when kissing someone this lovely. Not that he'd had much opportunity with anyone _this_ lovely for quite a while now. And before he had a chance to really appreciate it, the soft heat had moved away from his mouth. He opened his eyes fast enough to catch a heavy-lidded expression on Lucas' face and a very promising tongue swipe across his lips. The expression cleared as he met Jack's eyes again, and any mockery in the half-smile seemed to be aimed inward.

"Not what I expected, I'll admit," Lucas said softly.

Jack found he had to clear his throat. "Perhaps another try. Just to be sure."

The bright smile flashed again before Lucas turned his back to sit on the edge of his rock and dress. He looked over his shoulder as if to speak, but his empty belly got in the first word. He laughed. "Maybe later," he said, then jumped to his feet bringing the trousers up in the same motion.

Jack propped his chin on the mouth of his bottle and sighed silently. Maybe later. It was better than the more familiar: over my dead body, or, not even when I see you in Hell. He could be optimistic. And he didn't have anything to loose, now that the rum seemed to be safe.

"Jack?"

"Mm?"

"I assume the path will get me to the beach? Was there any pineapple left?"

Ah, yes. Keep the growing boy growing, Jack, old man. "Hold up a minute." He tried not to wince at the pain of the rock on his knees as he pushed himself up. "I set some nets this morning. We'll see if there's anything in 'em."

~~~

Half a dozen small fish, some more pineapple and a bit of the hard tack from the supplies made for a satisfying supper. Lucas watched the sun set behind the breakpoint of the bay, chewing on the bread and washing it down with sips from the rum bottle, now filled with water. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on the disappearing orb. Too hard in Jack's judgement.

"Where were you last sunset, Lucas?"

"I don't know," the lad said without hesitation.

"The ship had lost its bearings?"

"I don't think so. I don't remember." Lucas looked down at the bottle between his raised knees and twisted it a little deeper into the sand. "I can remember pieces. My father made me go on the ship. The captain's name was Bridger. He took special care of me."

"Did he now?"

"Not like that!" Lucas spat out, but when he saw Jack's grin, he poked out his tongue. "Not like that. I wasn't part of the crew, yet I was. I had a purpose, but what it was...."

Jack didn't want Lucas to fade back into melancholy and figuring out what he did know would help. A knock to the head was very common in a wreck, and the memories would come back easier with use. "What are you good at?"

"Numbers." Again the answer was automatic.

"The pilot or a cartographer? It would explain your build and hands."

Jack watched the wheels start to spin in Lucas' head. The boy was obviously very bright, too bright to be before the mast. "What do you mean?" the boy asked.

"You take to the water like a fish, but your body doesn't show the work of a common seaman. Even if this was your first trip, especially if this was your first trip, your hands wouldn't be so soft."

"Soft?" Lucas stared at his palms as if willing them to tell him more. "I use my hands a lot," he continued with conviction. "But much of the work is at a desk. I remember being told to put out the light and go to bed, that I could finish in the morning." Lucas looked up and grinned at Jack. "Captain Bridger's voice."

"He was a friend of your father?"

"No. He didn't want me on board at first, but he had orders from Admiral...." The boy shook his head in frustration, his memory apparently stalling again. The tactic of changes in topic seemed to be working so Jack tried another.

"You weren't in the Captain's bed, so whose bed were you in?"

"No one's!" Lucas said indignantly and then blushed bright red.

"Ah ha." Jack threw another log on the fire to make sure there was enough light to continue watching this spectacle.

"I've never...." Lucas rested his forehead on his knee and mumbled. "Hitchcock."

"Who?"

"That's the name that came to mind and then...."

"Yes?"

He raised his head and glared. "The humble pirate can figure it out for himself."

Jack laughed and drank to seaman Hitchcock for providing him with such entertainment.

"And Ben," Lucas said, sadness starting to creep into his voice.

"Ben Hitchcock?"

"No, another person."

"Couldn't make up your mind, eh?" Jack smiled at Lucas, Lucas smiled back. Then, "OW!" Jack found out why it was called hardtack. "Good aim for a man with no memory," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"I remember how to throw."

"Evidently."

Lucas leaned back onto the sand, his hands cushioning his head. "I remember how to swim. I remember I don't like mangoes. I remember I was named for my grandfather."

"You remember how to kiss."

There was silence for a long moment. "I think that one's new."

Jack stretched out on the sand, imitating Lucas' pose, their elbows almost–almost–touching, and the fire a reassuring barrier between them. Reassurance for Lucas; Jack was still trying to figure out how he was going to get a bit of heat without getting scorched. "Couldn't tell from this side," Jack said casually. "What makes you think so?"

Deep breaths, Jack heard a trio of them before Lucas answered, "I don't remember that feeling."

"Memory loss tends to do that."

This time Jack was punched in the shoulder; he was making progress. And when Lucas spoke, Jack felt breath brush across his forehead. "I don't remember the feeling of being kissed but I do remember what it's like to do something for the first time–scared, determined, excited."

If he bit his tongue any harder it would start to bleed. This was no time for smart remarks, the boy was working up nerve for something, Jack could feel it like a coming storm. He should start to run with it rather than tacking against it. "That feeling has more to do with who you're kissing than the number of times you've kissed." He looked up to see Lucas even closer than he'd thought. "Trust me on this one. I remember a few more kisses than you do."

Lucas nodded slowly. "When was the last time you felt like that, Jack?"

"My best reckoning would put it 'bout two o'clock this afternoon."

With Lucas' face half in shadow and practically upside down, it was near impossible to read. Jack pulled himself up onto his elbow and was able to catch the hint of a smile pulling at the edges of lips that seemed to be on the verge of saying something. Jack knew the opportune moment; this wasn't it. Yet.

Something seemed to settle in Lucas and the smile made a brief appearance. "Do you have any of that rum left?"

Not what Jack expected to hear, but he glanced around, there had to be a bottle nearby. "I'm not--"

"This afternoon, you offered me a second taste."

Oh, _that_ rum. "So I did, me lad. So I did." Jack settled back onto his elbow and shifted his body a little further away from the fire. "You're welcome to it anytime. There's an endless supply."

The slow movement that had been bringing Lucas closer, suddenly halted. "I don't know if I have the head for very much."

Jack closed the distance by half again, encouraged that Lucas didn't move back. "Take what you will," he said softly.

He felt more than saw the nod of understanding, Lucas' lips brushing lightly against his. It tickled, and he licked his own lips automatically. Lucas startled back, making Jack certain the moment had been lost irrevocably. He intended to say something, anything, to mitigate the damage he'd done, but the words were jarred out of his head as it hit the sand.

This was what happened when you let amateurs take the wheel; you ended up with sand in your ears, a tongue down your throat and a cock so hard it could pound nails. Sweet Mary Mother of God, amateur or no, the boy knew how to kiss! And now that he was getting used to the sudden readjustment in his blood flow, Jack could not only appreciate it, but encourage it.

Fingers finally on the gold, he thought, as he threaded his hands into Lucas' hair. It was surprisingly soft after its soak in the brine and Lucas made approving noises in the back of his throat as Jack ran his fingertips over Lucas' scalp. He weighed his options of trying to gain more control. Pulling the boy back would allow for greater finesse, give him a chance to impress that experience could make a difference. Closer would make the kiss.... Oh God. Like that. Like swinging from a rope where it was all he could do to hang on until he felt the right moment to let go. With this one, it might never be the right moment. He moved one hand from Lucas' hair and slipped it around the boy's back, pulling him more fully onto Jack's chest.

"'M on fire."

"Me, too," Jack agreed, his lips moving against Lucas' jaw as the mouth moved out of reach.

"No. Jack." Lucas shoved hard this time and scrambled past Jack toward the jungle, away from the fire. He glanced at the cuff of his trousers and inspected it with his fingers as he glared at Jack. "The fabric's scorched."

"Let me take a look at that." Jack grabbed Lucas' ankle and pulled Lucas' leg into his lap. The motion toppled Lucas flat onto his back and dragged him six inches through the sand but Jack ended up exactly where he wanted to be, between Lucas' long legs. He made careful inspection of the scorched hem then drew his hands slowly, deliberately up the rest of the pant leg. "Embers can smolder," he said very, very seriously. "Wouldn't want to miss any hot spots."

"Oh, no. We wouldn't want that."

The tone stopped Jack's hands half-way up Lucas' thigh. And just as slowly and deliberately, Jack raised his eyes to Lucas' face. Propped up on his elbows, the fire illuminated Lucas' face perfectly, and the look in his eyes matched his rough voice -- insolent, challenging, and to a pirate, irresistible. Jack smiled and pushed himself onto his knees, one hand on each of Lucas' thighs. The insolence slipped for a moment, blue eyes blinked and lips parted, and Jack took pity on the boy. He turned his focus to a similar inspection of the other trouser leg until a quick glance showed him the smirk had returned to the pretty face. That was it, no more holding back. The boy was hardly a milquetoast; Jack had seen his temper, if he didn't want this, he would make it very clear.

Jack had the buttons undone and a good grip on each trouser cuff before the smirk left Lucas' lips. The boy flung his arms wide and dug his fingers into the sand to keep from being dragged again as Jack rose to his feet and jerked the garment from Lucas' body. "Just to be on the safe side," Jack said, now wearing his own smirk.

"Safe side?!"

Lucas' temper was showing, but then so was everything else. Jack couldn't help admiring the whole package. The waxing moon peeking over the treetops brushed in silver what the firelight couldn't reach to gild. Lucas propped himself up onto his elbows again, his jaw tight and his eyes snapped with ire, while the rest of his limbs stayed sprawled where they fell. He made no move to hide himself from Jack's gaze, to close his parted thighs or cover his sex sitting soft yet heavy on his belly. The pose, most likely meant to highlight his anger and indifference, had one flaw, for as Jack watched Lucas' cock firmed and straightened, belying his defiant lack of response.

"Jack, you're on fire," Lucas said, sounding almost bored.

Jack smiled and reluctantly lifted his eyes to Lucas' face. "I've already admitted to that."

The impassive mask broke as Lucas rolled his eyes and pointed. When Jack turned to look behind him, the billow of smoke that moved with him gave him a clue to what lad was getting at. "Fire!"

"That's what I said."

Jack shot Lucas a glare as he unwrapped his smoldering sash and stomped on it, and realized _this_ was the opportune moment. The rest of his clothes reached the sand even faster than the sash, then he stood at Lucas' feet, completely naked, and more than grateful that the fire was behind him, making Lucas' face the one fully lit. He had to see which way this kitten was going to jump. Lucas showed no sign of jumping anywhere by the time the allowed number of heartbeats elapsed, so Jack said, very solemnly, "Can't be too careful."

A snicker wasn't usually a reaction Jack welcomed when fully exposed, but in this case, the beauty of the smile that went with it made it worthwhile. And, for a change, he could tell interest hadn't died with the laughter. In fact, if anything....

"Now," he said, sinking to his knees. "Where were we?" He placed his hands back onto Lucas' thighs. "Just about here if I recall correctly."

"A little higher, I think."

Jack inclined his head in agreement and settled back on his heels as he walked his fingertips along the soft skin of Lucas' inner thigh. The boy gasped and bolted upright, grabbing Jack's wrists as he almost slid onto Jack's lap. They ended up nose to nose, hot breath brushing the skin of Jack's cheek as Lucas panted through lips parted in a wide curve. "Tickles," he explained, breathless.

"If you insist," Jack said, wisely.

Lucas' eyes narrowed. "What? You think I need an excuse to do this?" Soft, too soft, except for the teeth on his lower lip and the hot tongue tormenting the trapped flesh. Torment because it was too brief. "I have an open invitation," Lucas whispered against his lips.

"Wouldn't want it said I'm inhospitable." Jack leaned in again, but Lucas backed up. Not a lot, just enough for Jack to get the message. The boy's gaze darted over Jack's face, his body, as if Lucas was learning him, memorizing him. Then Jack's wrists were free and long fingers ghosted over his arms, pausing for mere instances over scars, old and new. Jack put his hands back on Lucas' thighs, this time stroking firmly to the boy's hips, fingers digging into the spare curves as Lucas' fastened onto his shoulders.

They moved together this time, both pulling closer in the same motion. Mouths met in the same breath. Bodies collided as Lucas rocked up onto his knees. Jack found his mouth being plundered again, this time with his head tilted back and Lucas' thumbs stroking the underside of his jaw. He leaned into it, letting himself be swept along like with the first kisses, however, there were some key pieces that hadn't fit into place this time. Corrections would have to be made soon; Jack's problem was choosing a course. He knew his general direction though and slid one hand around to make the first adjustment, to stop Lucas' cock from brushing with a maddening hint of slickness against his belly.

The first stroke of Jack's palm coincided with Lucas breaking the kiss; his head fell back for a deep breath, released with what Jack would insist was a moan. Then Lucas raised his head enough to met Jack's eyes, and in that instant, Jack knew exactly where they were going. He rose slowly onto his knees so his lips could take advantage of Lucas' bared throat while his free hand went to Lucas' chest. With persistent pressure from both, he encouraged the reversal of their positions and eventually coaxed the boy back onto the sand. Then he set his course.

"Jesus, Jack! You don't have to shove."

Maybe with a few detours. It wouldn't do to be predictable and the opportunity for treasure shouldn't be ignored. The boy had done far too much of the kissing today. Take what you can–-that was the pirate credo-–but he'd be more than happy to give it back twice over. He started just as soft as Lucas' tease, nibbles and brushes and licks gradually deepening until the boy was wide open beneath him. He'd never imagined that such a firebrand would give in so easily. And so alluringly. Lucas was hardly passive under Jack's mouth but he gave Jack the lead, he let himself be kissed. His hands roamed Jack's skin restlessly, not directing, just feeling with just enough pressure to make it clear they needed to get closer. Even with this full body of stimulation, it was the sound Jack felt vibrating along his tongue that made him need to catch his breath.

"Jack."

Oh yes, it was a moan he'd heard. Unfortunately, it was his. Jack bit back a second as Lucas flexed his hips again, sending duel sensations over his skin–-one from his cock pressing against Lucas' hipbone, the other from Lucas' hard length sliding into the crease of his thigh. This was not where they were headed. It was a good place to mark on the chart for later, but he was the captain and this was not where they were headed. He kissed Lucas hard and fast to get his attention, then lifted himself onto his hands and knees.

"What's the rush, lad? Plan on waylaying another unsuspecting sailor the next bay over?"

"Might as well go with what works."

"Hmm." Jack narrowed his eyes a little and smiled. He did like the boy's wit and nerve, but widened eyes and a softened mouth also had their appeal. "You have a point." He eased his weight onto one arm, lowered his mouth to Lucas' chest and bit. He smiled again, keeping the nipple trapped between his teeth, hoping the gold would catch the uncertain light. Lucas was watching, the pink on his cheeks not from temper or the glow of the fire. Jack dragged his far hand along Lucas' ribs then up over his chest as he paid serious attention to the small bit of flesh under his tongue and between his lips. A warm-up, a small taste of what was to come. But then Lucas took a deep breath, again the exhale not quite silent, and stretched his arms into the sand above his head. He arched into Jack's touch and the warm up became overheated.

Teeth and nail marks, saliva and finger bruises trailed in Jack's wake as he turned to a direct course. He gripped Lucas' hips to keep him still, not that he really wanted the boy still, watching him move had been the highlight of Jack's day. But he liked the strength he could feel under his hands, liked that he could take it and claim it as his, even for a little while. And he liked the strength he felt under his tongue as he licked a stripe from balls to glistening tip, the surge of muscle and then salt as he reached the top.

Everything stilled suddenly and Jack looked up in alarm. The boy wasn't even breathing.

"Lucas." The single word prompted Lucas' eyelids to flutter and then his chest rose and fell in rapid and shallow pants. "You all right, lad?"

"Don't know. If you don't do that again soon, I'd say definitely not."

Brash words, but in a breathy growl that went straight to Jack's groin. It was a plea. Cleverly disguised, but likely the closest Lucas would ever allow himself to make. Jack was sure now he wanted to keep Lucas still; he wanted this to be very, very good. He shifted his forearms to brace on Lucas' thighs, leaving his hands free. One to wrap around the base of Lucas' cock and the other to adjust for changes in weather. Right now soothing strokes with his thumb just inside Lucas' hipbone seemed a good idea. Then with one last look into deadly serious eyes, Jack smiled.

This wasn't something Jack did on a regular basis. In fact, the only men to truly stir the desire went by the name of Turner. Although the younger.... Well, perhaps a little practise wouldn't be completely out of order. The honeymoon should be ending any time now. At any rate, it wasn't a skill that one could completely lose, it simply had to be remembered. How to make sure that teeth didn't scrape the sensitive head as it slid between your lips. How to flick a the very tip with your tongue before spiralling downward to eventually run it along the underside of the ridge. Relaxing into the rhythm, steady suction and motion to drive forward, and intermittent bites and licks to keep things from ending too soon. The smell, the taste, the sound of lungs working like bellows and stifled cries.

Or not so much stifled as stopped, along with all other sound. Damn it!

"Damn it! Lucas!"

Eyes blinked slowly. "What?"

"Breathe or I'm stopping."

"What?! No!" Lucas propped himself up on his elbows and breathed deep.

"Stay like that and keep your eyes open, so I know you haven't died on me."

He'd only meant to watch Lucas enough to make sure he was doing as he was told, but the look on Lucas' face as Jack lowered his mouth again was the most arousing thing he'd ever seen.

"Jack, I can't...."

Jack pulled up so that just the tip remained between his lips and teased the slit with his tongue as he glared at Lucas.

"Oh God." The boy swallowed hard and licked his lips but didn't close his eyes. Jack kept staring as he dove deep. Lucas whimpered and the chuckle Jack felt rising in him came out as a hum. The next cry was unmistakable and Jack was too busy swallowing to complain about him not watching. Or breathing.

Just as he was licking up the last drop and preparing to berate the boy for dying on him, he was led by his hair up Lucas' body and into a kiss. It was soft and deep, and Lucas taking obvious pleasure in tasting himself brought Jack close to the edge again. This time, he was the one grinding into the body beneath him, a body that was moving like the swells on the sea. Lucas' hips shifted in counterpoint to his, a knee came up and pushed Lucas' thigh between his own, and hands ran over his ribs and around his back in soothing waves. He knew it was there, almost in his reach.

Then it was gone with the thump of the ground meeting his back. The tirade that threatened to pour from between his lips disappeared as Lucas' lips slid across them, kissing him briefly but with purpose. Lucas' hands hadn't stopped, they continued to stroke his skin and the intoxicating, wet mouth that followed closely behind was like adding rum to the fire. That was what he felt like, that raging bonfire he had witnessed the former Miss Swann create from an island's worth of foliage and too much rum. He was being consumed by wild heat with occasional spectacular explosions as Lucas' tongue found a pulse close to the surface or his fingers found a patch of skin slightly more sensitive than the others. The risk of burning out too soon almost became a certainty until Lucas licked the tattoo on his chest, then gave respite as he moved back far enough to read it.

"Don't ask," Jack said, in response to the raised eyebrow.

"Are you going to say that about every mark on your body?" Lucas asked and ran the sharp edge of a tooth over one of the scars on Jack's ribs. Lucas kept moving lower, fingertips tickling the crease at the tops of his thighs.

"If you ask the questions within the foreseeable future."

"The foreseeable future? What parts of the future do you foresee, Jack?"

"The parts where you end up with a sticky chin because *you* don't see what is right under your nose." That didn't seem right, but this was not the time for worrying about accuracy.

Lucas smiled before whispering against the skin just under Jack's navel, "It's going to take longer than that," Then he tilted his head and Jack's cock slid against the boy's throat just under his jaw as he continued to drag his warm lips over Jack's hipbone.

"It's not," Jack groaned as he pushed the back of his head into the sand and closed his eyes tight. He wanted it to last longer, but Lucas had too much imagination. He was too good at taking a typical move and changing it just enough to be surprising. Fingers that should be caging his balls were brushing over the skin around them; the tongue that should be bathing his cock was massaging the tendon at his hip. Both of these unusual activities were making him shake and want to spread his legs wide. Then he felt warm breath on damp skin, the head of his cock slick from its own juices, and again he was surprised. The fingers had stopped teasing and a knuckle pressed into the firm flesh just behind his balls at exactly the right pressure to send a jolt through his body.

"You liar!" Jack roared to the sky.

"About what?"

There wasn't any emotion behind the question, only curiosity, odd considering the accusation. But as Lucas had finally decided to run his strong tongue along the length of Jack's cock, Jack wasn't going to worry about the surprise of the timing. "Somebody's been teaching you," he said instead.

Lucas continued to lick Jack's shaft, but Jack could tell he was thinking. "I didn't lie." Lick. "I said I wasn't sharing a bed with anyone on the ship." Another press of the knuckle as Lucas' tongue swept over the head, and then a wide stripe back down. "I'm certain I wasn't." He lifted one of Jack's balls with his tongue and when he did the same to the other one, he pressed in again.

 

"Good God...."

"I seem to know quite a lot of things though." Teeth threatened both side of his cock as Lucas moved slowly up the length, his tongue leaving crosswise lashes as he went.

"Bugger me," Jack gasped.

"Including how to do that."

This had to stop right now. "Lucas?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you kindly desist in this prattle?"

There was a worrying pause. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Jack looked down and, yes, the wicked look in Lucas' eyes matched his voice. He didn't look away as Lucas took him in slowly, found his level and then relentlessly drove Jack out of his mind. There wasn't far to go, part of him commented, nevertheless, what a way to finish the journey. Knowledgeable or no, the boy showed good judgement in not trying anything fancy, only the occasional twitch of tongue to see what could be done and that knuckle hitting just right every other stroke. Jack slid his fingers into Lucas' hair, tempted to grab on but managing to just set them against the boy's skull. Lucas hummed his approval, and Jack arched, tightening his fingers.

"I love your hands, Jack," Lucas growled at him, lifting off just in time to delay the inevitable. When he went back down, Jack ended up nudging the back of his throat.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! So much for the delay. He tried to pull Lucas off of him, but the boy only backed off a little, keeping the head in his mouth and the rhythm going with his fist. The first pulse was swept up by a swirling tongue and Jack didn't remember much after that.

"So?"

It was a wide open question, but Jack could see through one half-opened eye what Lucas wanted to hear. "Go grab the blankets, mate." Jack said, waving airily toward the supply cache before the strength in his arm gave out. "You've turned my whole body to porridge. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

By the size of Lucas' smile, that seemed to do the trick. He spread out one of the blankets near the fire and Jack made a show of needing to be carried to the pallet. Lucas refused to attempt it, but the help he did give and groping he endured were both done with very good humour. He toppled onto the blanket with Jack's help and was asleep before Jack managed to pull the other covering over them both.

~~~

The moon was well on its way to the western horizon the next time Jack opened his eyes. The fire had died, but with two of them under the blanket it was almost too warm. Or it might just be him, he thought, as his attempt to move slid his cock along the valley between Lucas' buttocks, solidifying his conclusion.

He wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep like this and to take himself in hand seemed a shame when Lucas was right there with all that soft, sleep-warm skin. Jack didn't have the heart to wake him though, not just to cater to his ill-timed whim. It wouldn't cause anyone even the slightest harm if he just...snuggled a little. Jack flexed his hips again and leaned his forehead against Lucas' shoulder. The boy smelled good, too–of pineapple and pleasure and the sea.

A half dozen strokes later and Jack knew this wasn't going to cut it. The angle he needed to keep things moving smoothly meant his body was too far away. One part of him was happy but the rest kept trying to get closer, like he was magnetized. While Jack was thinking, Lucas shifted in his sleep, shifted away. Jack's compass stayed on course though, pointing exactly where he really wanted to go. Not good. Then the thought came to him that a compass was a guide, not a rule. He made a small adjustment as he moved close again and his cock slid between Lucas' thighs as he draped himself back along the boy's spine.

This was much, much better. Jack wrapped an arm around Lucas' chest to hold him close, and buried his nose in the hair just behind Lucas' ear. He made an experimental thrust of his hips and groaned against Lucas' neck. Quietly. He groaned quietly. He did it again, an easy motion that moved him just enough against warmth and skin and God that was good!

He couldn't be sure when Lucas' hips started to push back into the motion, but he froze the instant he realized it was happening. Then he felt the laugh under his hand--at least he hoped it was a laugh-–and he raised his head slowly.

"I wouldn't have thought of you as a classicist," Lucas said, his voice low and rough from sleep and amusement.

Jack was about to be polite and ask if Lucas minded, but the kiss he was pulled into made the question redundant. It was generous and relaxed, giving it a level of sensuality the urgency of the others hadn't allowed. The angle was a little awkward but Jack couldn't have dreamed a better kiss, lips so warm and soft there was no need to search further for satisfaction. Lucas' curiosity seemed impossible to sate, however, as his fingers searched out the beads in Jack's hair and the gold in his ear. He brushed Jack's cheekbones with his eyelashes and deliberately tickled his upper lip with the edge of Jack's moustache. But between these forays, there were the kisses accompanied by the most alluring sounds almost at the edge of Jack's hearing. It was the need to hear this siren song more clearly that drew Jack closer, deeper, and to the point of breaking the unspoken agreement and coaxing his way past the barrier of Lucas' teeth.

The low, sweet moan more than compensated for the loss of their accord. The breach also expanded the reach of Lucas' sensual survey; he followed Jack's withdrawal and continued along Jack's internal surfaces. When he lingered a little too long testing the gold on Jack's teeth, Jack had to pull away to make room for his grin. The instant he left he knew he had been gone too long from the essential warmth and so kept his lips on the skin of Lucas' jaw as he whispered, "You like the taste of gold, do you?"

"I like the taste of you." Lucas arched his neck to bare the side of his throat to Jack's wandering mouth. "And being tasted."

Whether the words were true or not, the boy's casual boldness lit something in Jack. What had started as a brief diversion to a night's repose, became an imperative. He did as ordered and tasted his way down Lucas' neck, while his hand travelled in a sinuous caress over Lucas' chest and abdomen. The skin under his lips heated, and under his hand, muscles worked to make room for the demand of breath. Jack found himself moving with that rhythm, rolling his hips with the oh so natural pace. He smoothed over Lucas' hip, hanging on to the bone for a few beats and then moved down toward the sand. His own cock jumped as his fingertips brushed Lucas', and a surge of moisture further eased his way as he slid over a similar drop at Lucas' head. His fingers gave him no choice, they slid down and around the hard length as if they were meant to be there and with just enough pressure to feel the pulse quicken under the hot skin.

With a soft hiss escaping from between his teeth, Lucas covered Jack's hand, encouraging it to release its grip. Jack didn't fight the motion that brought his hand back up the length of Lucas' torso, although he had a moment of reservation when Lucas turned to look at him, for there was a devious plan alight in his moon-silvered eyes. "You're going to come first this time," he said.

"Giving orders now? Have you forgotten I'm the Captain here?"

"You're on sabbatical."

He licked the length of Jack's index finger before biting the tip. Jack startled a bit, but it was nothing compared to the rush of heat that went through him when Lucas slowly sucked the first and second digits into his mouth. The care he took to introduce every bit of skin to his tongue, the brief acquaintance he insisted they have with his teeth, the gentle, steady suction that Jack had already experienced to a greater degree earlier, all were transferred without delay to his prick. His demanding, greedy, single-minded cock which did not care that Jack had a reputation to maintain but simply wanted.... It wanted. And Lucas seemed to know exactly what it wanted as he firmed his thighs and bucked back against Jack's hips.

"Christ!" Distraction, distraction, distraction. "I impersonated a cleric once, you know."

Lucas' eyes narrowed and he licked voluptuously from the base of Jack's finger to the tip. Then he made the cross-wise motion run across his lips for the motions of a blessing that had likely never been granted before. But really, really should be again. Often.

"Then you should know anointing is a sacred rite."

Damn it, he did it again. Far too clever for anyone else's good.

"Come on, Jack." Jack's forehead rested on the boy's shoulder so it was easy for the cat-tongued voice to slip into his ear. "I've been told I'm stubborn. I'm not going to be able to wrap your beautiful, long fingers around me until...." He gasped as he placed Jack's hand on his chest, a hard nipple just under the fingertips. "And I want them there. I want to watch them." Jack rolled the nipple between two fingers and Lucas arched, pressing shoulders and hips against him accompanied by a breathless, "I want you."

All right. Always happy to oblige.

The opportune moment-–he'd made it his personal cliché already. But he liked to think that if he hadn't held off this long it wouldn't have been this.... There were no words. There were bruises, from his fingers as he pulled Lucas against him and from his teeth when he bit into Lucas' shoulder. There was blood, igniting his skin, pounding in his ears, and rushing though the heart beating under his hand. There were tears--absolutely not his--though where they came from he couldn't say. And there was copious amounts of seed, a hell of a lot more than he thought he had in him. At least that's what it felt like.

Just as Jack was starting to feel like most of the pieces of his scattered self had been put back in their proper places, Lucas stirred. He recaptured Jack's hand and moved it with obvious intent. Obvious until Lucas by-passed the obvious goal, then Jack was confused again. He didn't have enough blood in his brain to try and match wits with the lad right now. Thankfully, the obvious became obvious again as his hand slid over Lucas' slick thigh and then the lad did as he said he would. Obviously.

He didn't wait for Jack to move; he pushed into the curve of Jack's fingers with a sigh then shifted back, sliding Jack's still firm cock through the slick heat on his thighs. Jack drew a breath through his teeth and firmed his grip for the lad. He felt a pang of guilt for not taking over the motion, but having Lucas undulating against him was not an experience he would relinquish willingly. The movements became shallower though and his cock slowly softened, so Jack propped himself on his elbow, leaned close to provide stability and took up the rhythm. Lucas' fingers curled around his wrist and then over his hand, not guiding, as if Lucas was using them to watch as he said he'd wanted to. Jack turned his head to see if Lucas really was watching his cock glisten in the moonlight and a heartbeat later the boy's eyes lifted from that sight to meet his.

A soft cry escaped before breath stopped, but this time Jack could see it, the way Lucas' body shifted its focus. Every bit of him concentrated on the flesh within Jack's fingers and the waves of sensations emanating from there. The face under Jack's gaze froze briefly in perfection which bloomed into beauty as breathing returned, soft and shallow at first, along with the blood, darkening lips, then cheeks and then fluttering eyelids. A hint of a smile drew Jack back to Lucas' mouth, letting him catch a contented hum between their lips as he made sure to draw out every last ripple.

When both heartbeats had returned to near normal, Jack reached over and wiped his hand on a patch of unstained wool and then stretched out again behind Lucas and whispered, "Your bed's a mess."

"I'll have to sleep on your side." Lucas immediately illustrated his solution by rolling to face Jack's chest, sliding a slightly sticky thigh between Jack's knees and an arm around his waist.

"This way?" Jack asked, bemused. "You don't trust me?"

"Not in the slightest," came the tart response, but Jack could feel Lucas' smile against his skin and it only took a few minor shifts of position for him to become unreasonably comfortable. With the sound of the surf to lullaby him, sleep would not elude him long despite the close-quartered company.

"You 'wake?"

"Mm." That was supposed to be a 'No'.

"Who's William?'

Now he was awake. "When...?"

"Earlier."

Blast! "Someone from a long time ago." It wasn't a lie.

And it seemed to satisfy Lucas, who simply grunted an acknowledgement and managed, remarkably, to snuggle closer. His breathing deepened and evened, and Jack could feel the moment the lad gave in to sleep. It had been a long time since he'd felt this, the complete trust of someone falling asleep in his arms. He usually made sure to pass out first.

Anamaria had vowed the Pearl wouldn't be back for six months. She'd better keep her promise.


End file.
